


A life for another, yet I will linger longer

by NS918



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Drowning, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 04:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30033111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NS918/pseuds/NS918
Summary: something I wrote, was bored ok lolyour vacation to Amut wasn't the best choice, but there was no leaving the small seaside town that was blanketed in snow.





	A life for another, yet I will linger longer

The trip to Amut wasn't the brightest choice, and so was entering the haunted mansion that the locals had pointed out to you. You should have noticed the pointed ears covered by the earmuffs the townspeople wore, the way that young girl? Boy? You don't even know anymore, all you know is that it was a mistake to try and capture their cat that had ran into the mansion.   
The door had shut with a slam, and no matter how many times you pushed the door, no matter how many times you grabbed the handle and pulled with all your might, the door remained shut. Now you were in a hallway, footsteps loud on the tiled floor, and the hallway dimly lit with the torches to your right, flames flickering, the fuel nearly burnt out.  
A dark oak door greets your face as you trip over a misplaced tile, and the collision chipped some red paint, the pieces fluttering onto your hoodie, before their descent onto the floor. The knob on the door was worn with time and use, and the navy paint followed the same fate as the red on the door. The debate in your mind to open the door took too long, but ultimately the knob was turned and you stepped in.  
Light that was streaming through a skylight, bars and glass broken, blinded you. The next thing you noticed was the smell, the stench of rotting wood, and seawater for some reason? As your eyes adjusted to the brighter environment, you see a rocking chair, made of a lighter wood than the doorway you just passed through.  
A pentagram on the floor, marked out in grey dust, that seemed like bone dust, covered much of the area, the only exception being the rocking chair and a cabinet. At each point of the star an object was placed. The first object was a picture frame, the photo inside grey, faded with time. The second item was simply a skull, with a candle burning inside, flames blue. The third was a jar, holding a single tarantula, the fourth a notebook labeled ‘Seaways’, with the name Adrian S. Suen on the cover. The final item, laid at the point farthest from you, was another jar, this one filled with water and a single clam shell.  
You circled the pentagram, and as you walked back to the doorway, thoroughly creeped out, a set of light footsteps, unlike yours, made its way behind you, and you feel a cold blade at your neck. Your body twists back, your reflexes kicking in, and you kick out, your attacker thrown to the floor, and his blade drops to the floor, and you grabbed the switchblade, dashed over to the man still on the floor, and stabbed the knife through his head. His breaths were shallow, and as you leaned down to try and lift him, a whisper of ‘A life for another, yet I shall stay longer’ came and went, then the man’s amber eyes shut, and he went silent.  
You toss the knife to the side, and attempt to lift the corpse again. Yet it seemed as if the body was a part of the floor, nailed and bolted down. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a faint blue light. Your head turns, and you see that the lines on the floor were now a light blue, glowing, and with a flash of blue that dazed you, an outline of a person was formed, slowly becoming opaque.  
The man that appeared was dressed in a sailors shirt with golden buttons, with navy checkered pants and a hat topped with a gold seagull. The eyes of the old man blinked open, and that's when your eyes that were transfixed on the man turn to the floor, your sneakers and socks wet, and you notice seawater creeping up your thighs and to your hoodie, the water level accelerating at a speed too quick for your liking. A glance to the door shows that the door was still closed, and your arms would not be able to drag the sailor to the exit even if the doorway was open. You settled for dragging the cabinet directly under the skylight, and you clambered out, using the shrubbery to your advantage and leaving the mansion.  
Your motel room, decorated in blue, just reminded you of the sailor’s piercing blue eyes, which you already see enough in your dreams, or are they nightmares? You book a flight for your home, and instantly leave for the airport.  
And as you sit down in the plane, you peer out the window, and on the asphalt, a man stands, alone and unbothered by the other staff, and those piercing blue eyes you only saw once look at you again, but the expression flashed to one of revenge, retaliation, and then your plane took off, and the man seemed to disappear into the background, and as the clouds surrounded you and the airplane, and your story vanished, and the two memories that ran through your head, whispered in your mind and seen everywhere, the phrase your attacker whispered, ‘A life for another, yet I will stay longer,’ and those bright blue eyes, of those you had sacrificed for your own.


End file.
